


Soldier Leaves for War Again

by FreakCityPrincess



Series: A Vast Enough Galaxy [5]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, And he damn well gets it, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Badass Rebelcaptain, Battle of Jakku, Bodhi Rook Needs a Hug, Developing Relationship, F/M, Post- Endor victory, Rebellion after the war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-20 18:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11927121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreakCityPrincess/pseuds/FreakCityPrincess
Summary: Almost half a year has passed since the victory on Endor and the last remaining soldiers of the Rogue One squadron are reluctantly adapting to life without war- or life on the winning side, at least.Then the Alliance for the New Republic summons its scattered troops from all corners of the galaxy, and heralds them against the Empire in battle one last time.They've given their lives time and time again for the rebellion and survived despite the odds, but death in the face of a maybe,maybepermanent victory is a harrowing prospect that even the bravest men and women fear.





	Soldier Leaves for War Again

**Author's Note:**

> If you have read [Part 3 of the series](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11702592), this fic takes place soon after the end, but it's pretty much standalone.  
> It's not chronologically set right after part 4! Part 4 kind of wedges itself between the different settings in part 3. The actual order here is- the Endor victory in pt.3, Part 4, the rest of part 3, and Part 5 (this). Sorry it's a bit of a mess!

Bodhi was doing something as simple and unmonumental as maintenance work on his ship- his _own_ ship, which he'd spent his payroll of the past three months on, when the call came in, swiftly worded and impersonal, one of a thousand messages sent out to people just like him. 

_High Command to Alliance operative. Your service is once again called for in this time of need as the tides of victory against the Empire risk turning again. Date and venue of rendezvous are encrypted below. Command salutes your continued contribution to the cause._

And just like that, the little spark of longing for the future that he'd hesitantly but surely kindled over the past four- five?- months, was tramped to the ground in an instant, leaving nothing but a whiff of smoke and dotlike ashes hazily floating out of his reach. 

He'd been stationed at a port on one of the lower levels of Coruscant, low enough to not smell pompous but higher than being a slum outright, and had left his ship in a hurry to take the first available turbolift car to the higher level he knew Jyn's office was. She was hardly ever in the office issued to her, busy with either work or reconnaissance or spending time on her own away from the unfamiliar faces of a rich, never abused people. But he didn't even let himself consider she wouldn't be there. He prayed that he'd find her, soon, and she could talk to him and they'd sort this out-

Bodhi didn't even spare to regard the questioning glances of the crowds around him as he dashed out of the lift in a mad sprint, mumbling excuses and squirming through bodies and tripping to the exit before anyone else. 

He knew the path to the office from memory. He jogged faster than he'd ever done before. 

She had to be in, she had to be in, Force, if she wasn't-

The mechanism on the door beeped irritably after his third time hitting it and the glass finally whizzed to a side.

He embraced her as immediately and as fiercely as she did him, their frames shaking as they sought comfort, explanation, _anything_ in each other. 

"They called-" his breath caught, he broke into a fit of coughs. So much for the his rush.

Jyn hauled half his weight bodily around one shoulder and lead him in, sparing only a second to slap the mechanism on the door to close it. She guided him to a haphazardly placed couch and sat down herself, exhaling a loud breath that rang in the still air of the empty office. Jyn shared this space with two others; he was infinitely glad for their absence.

A terrible silence settled between them, no words being spoken but all fears being addressed, internally, forcibly cast aside in order to put together straight words. 

Not Jyn, he thought. She was stronger than him. She had probably already thought this through.

So he did the one coherent thing he could think of, and asked. "What are you going to do?"

Jyn gave him a look that was masked, but held an unmistakable degree of apology. "What I've been preparing to do. I'm going to fight."

Bodhi could scream out of frustration or cry at that point. He did neither. "Don't, Jyn."

She looked at him, but there was something about her eyes that indicated they weren't _looking_ at all. "It's not a choice." 

Bodhi shook his head violently. "No, it damn well _is_ a choice because anything we do now, since Endor, is voluntary- we _chose_ to stay and help rebuild. We didn't sign up for war again!"

"Bodhi," said Jyn quietly, not quite meeting his eyes. "If we don't fight, who will?"

The words were too reminiscent of a time when they had been the only ones willing to fight, and Bodhi shook off the thought before it could ensnare him. "But we finally have a _chance._ To...live normally, or something. To be at _peace._ "

Jyn sighed. It was a tired sigh, like all the extra years she'd lived on the field were finally catching up with her. "I don't think I can be at peace knowing I'm avoiding a fight we need, Bodhi."

The pilot dropped his face into his hands, shaking his head. "I don't want to go. I'm tired. I'm injured. I still have this kriffing prosthetic that's giving me trouble, but I _can_ go, I can ignore all of that and I can go, and I wish I was half as brave as you are to make that decision quickly. But you have a _better_ reason, and you could be sacrificing your one shot at the life you deserve by taking this on." He gripped her shoulders, skin and metal fingers digging into the material at her sleeves. "Just think about that, Jyn."

Jyn frowned, deeply, processing and trying to make sense of his outburst. "How do I have a better reason than you? I'm not even injured."

Bodhi almost chortled, but bitterly, like there was a bad taste in his mouth. "I can't believe you're asking that."

Jyn shook her head slowly, uncomprehensively. "I don't know what you're talking about. This isn't...Force, Bodhi, you think this job on this over-pompous Core World is the life I want?"

The pilot sputtered. "Don't be _stupid,_ of course not! That's not what I'm talking about!"

"Then _what?"_

Bodhi looked frustrated, pained and worried all at the same time. " _Cassian!_ You finally have...the chance..."

Jyn had drawn back, blinking, her face a mask of confusion and befuddlement. "What?"

Bodhi groaned. "Nevermind. I can't do this anymore."

"What about him?"

"Well he...he asked you to marry him, didn't he? And you're going to put that off because you think the Alliance can't do without just one more foot soldier?"

Jyn watched him with an unreadable expression. His arguing game deserted him and he felt suddenly anxious, more than he'd previously been.

"I see what you're getting at," she said finally, dropping her eyes. There was an uneasy clench in her throat when she spoke. "But I...I didn't make that decision."

Bodhi was hit by a wave of shock that wiped out every other concern. He couldn't see himself, but he was sure his eyes were wide and he looked shaken. He tried to say something, opened his mouth, but no words came out. Only the barest of choking sounds, like a creaky door closing by itself.

"Don't go anywhere," Jyn got to her feet, already on her way to some innet part of the office space. "I'll get you something to drink."

Bodhi _wasn't_ going anywhere. If his life and his friends' lives were starting to fall apart already, what did he have to lose if he signed up to fight another battle, and another, until his luck ran out and he finally died for the cause? 

He wanted to ask why. Get up, confront his friend and demand an answer. Was it Cassian's fault, because he didn't keep in contact as much as he ought to? Was she still just afraid that something would snatch her (minimal, almost nonexistent) happiness away? Had she said no because her desire to go back into the field was greater? 

She returned before he could process any more confounding theories, tossing him a flask of some Corellian mocktail which in his daze he barely caught. Jyn sat down beside him again and took a long swing from her own flask before providing an explanation.

"We always thought the war would come back," she said, and she was speaking for all three of them when she said that. "My condition was if it started showing signs, I wouldn't try to settle down on Fest or anything. And there's that sign now. A call to arms against the Empire."

Bodhi wanted to shake her and hammer it in how _unfair_ that was. "So as soon as you got the call...you just commed him and said no? Just like that?"

Jyn was quiet for a moment before responding. "I don't have to. He already knows the condition."

The pilot scoffed. It was a weak, desperate attempt to appear incredulous, while in reality he was horrified. "This is ridiculous. You're being ridiculous."

Jyn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I wouldn't if I didn't have my reasons."

" _No,_ " snapped Bodhi suddenly, surprising even himself. He quivered, but he ploughed on. "We're supposed to be _family,_ Jyn, and we've had each other's backs for years until _now_ that you're deciding to kriff this whole thing up. You want to cut us out of your life so you can go back to a warzone, because it's where you're comfortable? Well, if that makes you happy, I'm _happy_ for you. I can't see how it isn't ridiculous that you find blood and gunfire and dead bodies more appealing than a peaceful life on a peaceful planet with the people you love if you- Force, if you even love us at all. Cassian needs you, he's needed you since after Scarif, and you're the only damn thing he needs to have the life he's fought so long and hard for, but _no_. You're just drawn to the very thing we've made sacrifices to end."

He didn't look at her, didn't take in her reaction as he rose, shakily but with finality. "It looks like I don't even have friends to live for, so you've...made my decision for me. I'm going to fight, too. I'm going to throw away my life with pleasure. Goodnight, Jyn."

Jyn was on her feet as soon as he hit the mechanism on the door lock. "Bodhi, wait-"

But he shook his head, shook the words off, and let the door slide shut behind him, cutting himself completely from her and her half-hearted apologies. 

###### 

The call to arms had been a standby protocol due to the fact that the Alliance needed its troops ready for battle on short notice. Any time soon. Very soon, now. They had people watching the flammable remnants of the Empire. 

A lot of familiar faces roamed the encampment serving as a temporary base, faces that had all fought on the same side of battle before plus many more, fresh faces that had been carefully recruited into the ranks after the last victory and the downfall of the Empire had bolstered confidence in a great many people. Everyone was on standby. Everyone's nerves jittered with excitement and nervous anticipation, that fluttering feeling in the face of an ineventable difficult task. Around the Base new and lifetime soldiers alike were engaged in training routines, leaving very few inches of ground without activity, while the overhead sky rumbled with the practice rounds of rebellion starships.

Bodhi had just lost twenty credits to Wedge Antilles on his stupid bet that the new X-Wing could outrun the Millenium Falcon. In all fairness, Solo hadn't even known he was being raced, but when this point of view was put forward to Antilles it had been shaken off with a, "You outran him, Rook, give me my money."

He'd told Luke about the gig, who'd proceeded- stupidly- to go tell Han, and Han had _not_ been happy about losing a race he wasn't even aware of.

Cassian found Bodhi just in time to break up a verbal brawl about the fairness of races, which incuded several reminders that nothing in the galaxy ever outran the Falcon provided _fair_ conditions. 

"How did you provoke Solo?" he'd asked. 

"In one of the hundred different ways that he _can_ be provoked," Bodhi answered, going for a sarcastic, light tone. "I outran the Falcon, but he had no idea it was a race."

Cassian rolled his eyes. "I'm not surprised he looked like he was about to jump you." He paused mid-stride, having realized that they'd wound up in a more or less secluded area, a rare spot for the teeming Base. Bodhi followed suit and halted as well. At the entirely unreadable spy's look Cassian gave him, he felt something sink in his stomach. "Are you on bad terms with Jyn, Bodhi?"

Of course he would notice. He was a kriffing _spy,_ for crying out loud. Even ig it had only been five days since he'd moved into Base and they hadn't got to see much of each other yet.

"Why?" asked Bodhi, trying to sound similarly unfazed. 

"Are you?" Cassian pressed, an interrogater who was too proficient in his job. He looked more determined to have his answer than any other emotion, although Bodhi tried to discern what he wasn't showing. Anger? Disappointment? Just curiosity?

"Yes," he answered anyway, finding the resolve to be honest. "We had an argument. I was...mad at her."

"And are you still?"

Bodhi threw his head back, rubbing his temples in with grease-encrusted fingers. "No. I mean, yes, but it's complicated. I feel bad about it but that doesn't make her less wrong."

Cassian didn't look concerned, just...he couldn't tell _what_ Cassian looked. "She's being trying to reach you on your comm. Go and have a word with her. Sort this out, because if you're going to serve under any level-headed commander, you're going to have to be level-headed yourself."

Funny how everyone easily masked their concerns and real feelings behind professionalism or ridiculous, cold reasoning. Still, Bodhi signed off with a nod before Cassian slipped away, having exhausted his limited window of free time. 

He went back to the pilots' grounds for a simulator test, and afterwards volunteered as a mock enemy for Red Squadron's run, which took from morning till late at noon when the mess hall opened. 

He was only going to give her the opportunity. She'd have to take it on her own. 

The unbreathable lines and standard tables and benches reminded him even more than the training of his time in the Alliance during the war. It also served to remind him of how he'd first come across Galen Erso. Both memories were equal degrees of painful. 

After having his tray loaded, he looked around without being obvious for Jyn and, when he didn't find her in the sea of heads and faces, proceeded to find a shorter-than-standard table and slid in. He was on his own now and not that hard to spot out. If she wanted to talk to him, he was making himself accessible. 

He had got halfway through his meal by the time the bench opposite him dipped, and a shadow fell over the table at last.

He continued to bite into his ration bar until she started. 

"I'm sorry," was the first thing Jyn said. 

Bodhi looked up, trying his best to look hostile even though he struggled with this anger, which was still new and raw, and he wanted so badly to forgive. 

"Hear me out," said Jyn, and she sounded too ernest to ignore it. "I've made a lot of bad choices, several times, throughout my life, but if my choices are going to break us up like you said, then they're by far the worst I've ever made."

He chewed on the tasteless ration bar slowly.

"I know how ridiculous it sounded," Jyn went on, insistently but with a slight hitch of desperation that made cracks in her expression. "And maybe it is. Maybe it really is ridiculous. Maybe I should find the prospect of a real life more attractive than being part of another war."

Bodhi studied her with only a mild look of curiosity. 

Jyn scraped her fingers through her hair in frustration, cool composure gone. "But I'm terrified, damn it. I tend to lose everything I have, everyone I love, and if there's a fight like this going on then the chances of that are even greater. I know I'm supposed to be over this. If I don't take that chance then I never will be able to, not in this lifetime. But the situation is so damn _real_ again, and it's harder to consider the possibility."

She met his eyes to continue. "I don't want to break up the only family I have. If I'm the reason you decided to sign up for this, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Bodhi."

He was readier for a reply despite the part of him that insisted he should be hostile. "You're not the reason. I didn't mean that when I said it. But pull out of this. Don't fight. You've earned the right to do something for yourself."

Jyn sighed, shaking her head. "I won't pull out of this, and neither will Cassian. Our first duty is towards the New Republic."

"The Alliance has already taken too much, Jyn." _And I never thought you were the type to stick to an organization and formal loyalties when there were better things to pledge to._

"Maybe you're right," said Jyn, surprising him, but he couldn't read her tone or the look on her face.

Before he got the chance to say anything, however, another shadow crossed, and the opposite bench dipped slightly again.

"Hey," Jyn said quietly in greeting. Bodhi waved awkwardly. 

"The Bantha milk's a tad fermented," said Cassian, jerking his head slightly to the right. "People over by that counter are getting drunk. I hope you don't mind?"

"Fermented, huh?" Bodhi spared a glace to his far left. He _could_ discern a few personnel getting a little jumpy. "Glad I avoided the stuff. We were just...talking."

He didn't see it, but Jyn touched Cassian's hand under the table and mouthed discreetly that they needed to have a word, later. 

###### 

A series of the bloodiest struggles since Endor followed, and the soldiers of what used to be the Alliance put into action the New Republic's plan to push back the remnants of the Empire. Losses were only endured in life. In everything else, the New Republic collected victories. 

Every day the legacy of Emperor Palpatine disintegrated, ended in ashes and smoke initiated by the rebellion's starships and footsoldiers alike. Each passing day the prospect of hope grew and glowed brighter. But there were still blood-stained battlefields to step into, every day, and there never stopped being that chance that you would be the one to go down today. Everyone's luck ran out eventually, and Jyn had been playing that luck since Scarif.

It was easy to lose sight of familiar faces in the continuous chaos and confusion, make new acquaintances and forget them over the next few days. The only contact she had had from Bodhi for a long stretch of time was a single message promising he was okay, and Cassian's division worked in political circles and infiltration operations that made him increasingly difficult to keep track of. Jyn broke even more bones, but every time she woke up in medbay or in the middle of the field with another operative wrapping up her wounds, she decided just to be grateful that she lived. 

A lot of time passed, more time than they'd spent in their non-military jobs during the brief interval of quiet. Whispers began to pass of a new battle, being planned, a mass-scale attack on the Empire's largest remaining contingent on Jakku. People believed it would all be over after that. 

The continuous stream of battles stopped for a while, and the New Republic's forces were rallied because they were needed in numbers. It was easier now to feel like one of so many, while in the previous years Rogue One had stood out on account of their first victory. This made it possible to stray from procedure more than usual and break a few contraband rules whenever Jyn and Bodhi got to regroup, usually along with a band of their old allies. Cassian rarely got to be around; so on one particular day he happened to be on Base, Bodhi bailed out from being Wedge's double-date, smoothly slipping the responsibility to one of the younger pilots who admired him, and turned up at Jyn's quarters with a Corellian bottle that he'd won from a game of sabacc. 

"Don't drink too much," he'd quipped, when she had asked if he planned on giving them all hangovers for the next morning. 

Cassian turned up even without being sought out, and was actually grateful for the reception. It had been an impossible few weeks in the Inner Rim.

"What isn't classified is that the job was unappealing," he said warily. "Too many dodgy contacts and Imperial loyalists. Where bribes didn't work, threats had to do, and that's never a good resort in the long-term."

"Let's hope there won't have to be a long term," toasted Bodhi, who'd already popped the bottle. 

Cassian accepted the full bottle that was handed to him with a tired smile. "Yeah. Let's hope that."

Figuring their pilot friend was hosting this reunion, he passed it to Jyn after the barest of swigs. She raised an almost playful eyebrow. "Really? Are we going to keep at this till it runs out?"

"You're hosting. You should've thought of having glasses."

"I have a late shift next morning," remembered Jyn, pouring down some of the drink. It didn't make her choke or leave a bitter taste, and she doubted it was even alcoholic in the first place. It might not do well to suggest to Bodhi he'd been ripped, though.

"Where's Kay?" the pilot asked, sounding a little disappointed. "He might not prefer the company, but, don't tell him I said this, it's nice to have him around once in a while."

Cassian's lips twitched imperceptibly. "He's proof-reading my advices for the next operation, statistics of failure and other alternatives and such. I may have also assigned him a working space near Leia's droid."

Bodhi chortled. "You mean 3PO? What have you done?"

"That droid is underappreciated, I tell you," Jyn elbowed him in ribs. "He's sweeter than Kay and does a lot of good work. And I bet he's just as loyal."

Cassian raised a disbelieving eyebrow. " _You_ of all people think Goldenrod is _sweet?_ Who are you and what have you done to Jyn Erso?"

Jyn cleared her throat pointedly. "Anyone who can tick your droid off as much as he does is fully deserving of my respect."

Bodhi tried his utmost not to smirk with satisfaction that his friends were casually passing the bottle between them as they talked.

"I can see the two of you getting along nicely," snorted Cassian, appearing either too tired, too light-headed or simply unbothered by the implications in that statement.

"I'll bury him in the snow if he crosses a line," said Jyn, leaning sideways onto his shoulder, looking just a little flushed from the Corellian brand. It eventually did hit her, however, and she glanced up at Bodhi sharply.

"The hell did I just drink?"

The pilot shuffled further into the wall, offering an innocent expression of cluelessness, but he was fighting back a smirk too hard. "I don't know. Wine, or something."

Cassian turned over the bottle in one hand. "Kriff, this is that stuff we used on Hoth to fall asleep feeling warm."

"And both of you need it," Bodhi pointed out. "You can thank me in the morning when you feel less dead on your feet."

Jyn treated him to a menacing scowl that lost most of its effect due to the fact that she was curled up comfortably at Cassian's side, head not budging from the crook of his shoulder. "I'm going to strangle you."

"Okay," shrugged Bodhi, grinning from a corner of his mouth. "If you don't strangle Cassian first."

"Why would she-" started the spy. 

" _Bodhi-_ " Jyn flashed her eyes at him warningly. 

Bodhi laughed, edging further away from them and towards the door, because an exit plan was looking increasingly necessary. "By the way, you look absolutely _terrifying_."

###### 

Rumours echoed in the ears of many and supposition became belief. The New Republic was putting everything it had into an assault on the last remnants of the Empire congregating on the desert world of Jakku.

Order was lost in the maelstrom. Batches of soldiers were dispatched everyday like expendable assets, many returning victorious but not without a death count and other damages. This battle would last for as long as it took for the Empire to cave in on itself, and that might be a while. 

Between the stars and the Base and the barren hell that was Jakku, it became easy to lose track of who lived and who died. Between troop-transitions Cassian would catch a glimpse of Bodhi, maybe, and Bodhi would run into Kay in the hangar bay and learn that the droid's reprogrammer's last reported status was alive. Jyn sometimes found the time to seek out at least one of them just to confirm that she hadn't been killed in the last strike. More frequently they just didn't have material proof of the other's death and so didn't assume it. 

Appearing detached wasn't as easy as it used to be. Because he _wasn't_ detached. Cassian Andor lied to himself about a great many things, always for his or his duty's benefit, but some truths couldn't be swept under the metaphorical rug. 

Baze and Chirrut had always given him sound advice when he hadn't asked. He never let himself think they meant more than comrades to him, but the words and the sure-aim when he couldn't look behind his own back had given him the dangerous desire to see Rogue One- the rest of the survivors of Scarif- make it through the war, the _whole_ war.

Even that idiot Serchill had grown on him. Bodhi had undoubtedly rooted his presence deep, and was a brave man, a good one- and although Cassian understood better than anyone just how merciless warfare could be, he found the nerve to hope that Bodhi Rook would make it.

And as for Jyn...he'd gone ahead and kriffing _proposed_ to her. 

Detachment policy out of the window. It was a foolish thing to do. But he'd thought about it, as much as he could consider something so risky, and his tired, war-weary side had won the argument. He'd come so far for the rebellion. After this was over, presuming his good fortune didn't run out, he was willing to let the new government take a backseat and do something for himself. 

After all, what had he fought for if not the future? 

Cassian realized just _how much_ he should have stuck to the policy of detachment only when the assault on Imperial remnants began. Either Jyn, or Bodhi, or both of them would get lost in the sea of incoming and outgoing dispatches, most dead soldiers' bodies weren't recovered from the field and many returned in critical states of injury. He never recognized faces. He himself was one of many; a face, but without a name to it, because everyone was the same in war. Nameless soldiers headed for certain death, nameless corpses that would only have collective funeral rites in anniversary years afterwards.

He had sustained further injury to his legs and back, but the implants were replaced, and he was to lead a covert strike on an Imperial communications hub through which all calls for reinforcements were routed. Security was tight and the place swarmed with 'troopers. Major Andor, who played a vital role in the infiltration of the similarly-guarded Scarif Citadel, had been handed the mission. 

He left with a small team in two days. Unlike Scarif, Jyn and Bodhi could not join him. 

Provided they were even alive. 

And if they were, what if they never got to see him again?

Detachment was a strength in war. 

Cassian had just finished briefing his team of twelve men and women when an X-wing pilot came looking for him and said that Bodhi Rook was asking. He made for the medbay at once. Bodhi was alive, he would pull through, but hurt enough that they would not dare send him into the field again. 

It was a blessing, really. In its own kriffing way. 

He was on his way to his quarters to pack up when a familiar figure fell in stride with him. 

"Cassian," he heard, with a tight smile. No comment on how she hadn't been sure he was alive.

He stopped on his way to look at her. Delayed relief flooded his blood and he almost couldn't hide it. "Jyn."

She averted her eyes, a cursory look around them, and dropped her voice to ask, "About Bodhi. Could you...call in a favour? They don't have enough resources or space in medbay to give him a complete treatment. It could be done halfway and then he'll just be told to wait."

He frowned slightly, nodded. "I'm listening."

"There are medwards on Coruscant that can treat him better. I can put in my earnings. Get a loan. Whatever works. The problem is getting him transfered from here."

He considered this plan. Not so much of a plan as a calculated shot in the dark, because none of it was going to be easy, and they were as far from any Core Worlds as they could be. They hadn't earned much during that brief stint of peace and ambassadorial work. "I can arrange transport. I'll put in my credits as well, call in a few favours. We can scrape enough."

Jyn actually smiled, but it was the tired and bedraggled kind that befitted anyone in this situation. She knew it wasn't going to be easy. "Thank you, Cassian."

The chaos around them seemed to dissipate, if only for a moment. 

"They won't clear him for active duty," he said suddenly, the words holding unmasked relief. "He'll be away from this...all of this, soon."

There was light in her eyes when she smiled at that. "That's...great."

He smiled a lot more. "I know."

Jyn surveyed their surroundings again, spotted nothing that concerned her, and placed a hand on his arm. They headed in the general direction of his quarters, not that Jyn was doing more than simply following him.

"Really, thank you," she said when they made it to his door. The corridors were empty, but a lot of noise filtered from just outside, an overworked rebel base. "I want Bodhi to have the best."

Maybe attachment wasn't such a bad thing, if you had people to look out for you. "Me too."

In a moment's heartbeat, Jyn leaned up and kissed the corner of his lips. "I know."

Kaytoo would say it was _unacceptable_ how that simple action triggered his senses and left him flustered.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" he managed to get out, not sounding as irrationally nervous as he actually felt. "I'll be leaving at 0900, and if you could drop in to say goodbye-"

Jyn sighed, kneading the skin at her temples in muted frustration. "You're being dispatched to that hellhole again. Of course. Just when I got a break for a day."

A smile threatened to form on his face again. "Not Jakku. A more covert attack."

"Infiltration?" Jyn asked wryly. 

"A get in, wreak havoc, get out while being fired at kind of operation."

"Don't die."

No one had ever _directly_ said those words on the eve of a mission. That made it sound far too easy, far too casual, like coming back was a certainty. 

"I'll try my-"

Jyn cut him off with a fierce kiss to his lips. "It's not an option. I'd like to get married once this over, you know."

And more words he hadn't expected to hear after the clauses of their deal- this war- had kicked in. 

He grabbed the sides of her face before she pulled away completely, staring into the unusual specks in her eyes and all the feelings she rarely showed. 

"You'll stay?" he asked, sounding breathy to his own ears. 

"Like Chirrut used to say," said Jyn quietly. "What's the point of all this fighting if we don't get what we want in the end?"

Cassian chuckled. "I'm going to pray Chirrut a thanks," he murmured, pressing his forehead against hers. His voice was turning raspy. That was fine. It wasn't like she hadn't just said yes to his proposal. "Do you have...anything to do? Now?"

"No. Not really. I promised Luke I'd spar with him- no, there's no way in _hell_ I'm letting him use his lightsaber. And he's not allowed to use the Force to help, either, but I'm sure I can beat him in hand-to-hand either way."

"I can't believe it," Cassian smirked. "Jyn Erso, wasting words."

"In case you _wondered_ about sparring with a Jedi-"

"Jyn," he brushed hair back from her forehead. "Sleep in my quarters tonight. There's a decommissioned second bunk you can have. Or...we can share mine, if that's..."

Jyn snorted. "We've shared much worse beds. Do you remember when Rankors-"

"Please don't bring that up."

She cracked a grin. "Your bunk it is."

###### 

Much as the New Republic had taken over Coruscant and stationed various representatives there, most part of the affluent class were still Imperial loyalists who'd been convinced their whole lives that anyone opposing the Empire was a terrorist. The people who'd delivered Bodhi here had explained his injuries were due to a skirmish with armed smugglers instead of revealing the side he fought for, so he had to keep this story in mind and invent anew whenever the doctors questioned him. How did that shrapnel get wedged in your back? Oh, um, this Volpai brought some ship part down on me, I think.

He also knew that his friends had planned this and they were probably funding it, too. He really did appreciate that. Except here, all the way in a Core World with no connection to the events that mattered, he felt helpless. A little deperate. Maybe he couldn't, and shouldn't go into the field again, but if he could do _something_ in his own way to help-

_Besides consume resources they could use for the people actually fighting._

He kept his sights on the HoloNet broadcasts. Everything he heard sounded too tame to be what he'd really witnessed. 

Bodhi got his surgeries done, watched the HoloNet, squinted at articles for details, and prayed to the Force that his friends would make it. He couldn't tire over the extensive period confined to hospital walls because there were too many things to occupy his thoughts.

He was still well on his way to recovery- he should be doing a lot worse, but he was stubborn, really- when the tides of the war turned and it looked like the Empire was winning. Then a vital Imperial routing center went down. And another. And another. Bodhi admired whichever bunch of rebels were capable of pulling so many of those off in a row with success. 

Jakku could be seen on fire even from the long-distance recordings allowed for news corporations. He noted that whenever the medical staff around him watched this news, they recoiled in horror at the state of fighting. To Bodhi, it looked like a simplistic retelling of events. 

One day, the war was won. 

He couldn't fathom how it had ended so fast. How the Empire had been totally obliterated, crumbling from ashes to molten dust to nothingness.

He asked the doctors. It was two months since he'd been relieved from duty. 

Bodhi's heart sank. Plenty of time and events had passed for his friends to be dead. 

Jyn. Cassian. Luke. Wedge. Shara. The names rang and echoed in his head. They could all be gone now, and he hadn't been at any of their sides to say goodbye.

But would things have transpired differently _with_ him? He might have saved a comrade's life. Not while being out of commission, though. In his injured state he would have done everyone very little help.

The names bounced off the echo chambers in his head.

People would erupt into celebration soon. At least half of Coruscant would affiliate with the New Republic and take to the streets in praise. He had no desire to see it. Where he and his new spinal, cranial and nerve implants wanted to be was on the Alliance base, where celebrations would happen with the right mindset and the sacrifices would be honoured.

He asked the medical personnel if they needed to keep him any longer. They said he was fit enough to maybe make a long-distance flight, but recommended rest for the next couple of years.

He felt glad to leave the confines of hospital walls, and soon set about the task of finding a way out of Coruscant. 

###### 

It took him a standard week to arrive, but Base still held the same air Endor had held immediately after the victory. There was a memorial wall with dates and pictures where many kept their heads lowered in prayer. But a respectable distance away, rebels danced and celebrated, droids were repurposed to carry trays of drinks, and everyone cried collective cheers that the war was over, the Empire had fallen. 

He noticed the Millenium Falcon at a distance in the hangar bay. Did that mean Han- and perhaps Luke- was alive? The familiar ship gave him hope. Surely not _everyone_ he cared about was gone. 

A lot of pilots recognized him, turned around and welcomed him with open arms. He was infinitely grateful they were here. Even if they only knew him by sight or reputation and vice versa. The grinning faces and the pats on the back felt good, the tangible happiness around him felt good.

Somewhere in the crowd of pilots he ran into Wedge. The idiot hugged him so hard his new implants made a noise. Bodhi was too relieved to complain. His idiot buddy was _alive._

"Luke?" he asked, unable to prevent himself. He wasn't ready for bad news, even if he already supposed it. "Shara?"

Wedge slapped him playfully on the shoulder, grin threatening to split his face. "They can't wait to see you."

In a strange but not unwelcome moment of epiphany, Bodhi felt he could cry. Good news. _Great_ news. He almost felt complete. Almost.

"Jyn?" he choked out. "Cassian? Are they...are they-"

Wedge didn't hear him, and started signalling to another group of people in enthusiasm. Bodhi felt a lump in his throat. He should ask again. Or maybe...he shouldn't. He really wasn't ready for this. 

After _everything_ they'd been through, must _he_ be the only one to make it? 

Not the only one. Luke and Wedge were here. Shara, too. He hoped her husband was also alive. But while these were people he cared about, Jyn and Cassian had been his team from the _beginning_ , and all of the original Rogue One squadron could be gone today except for _him,_ who wasn't as brave as Jyn said, wasn't as deserving, hadn't even _fought_ the last stretch of the war-

His arrival and the swarming of pilots had drawn a lot of attention, anyway. The hangar bay was crowding and turning into the next spot venue for the party. 

"I was wondering when you'd turn up," a voice piped from behind him. He turned around just in time to catch Luke's hug. The Jedi let go, staring at him from arm's length like there was something baffling about his face. "You don't look very happy to see us," Luke noted quietly. "Yeah, that's...we all have losses, Bodhi. I'm sorry."

Bodhi attempted a weak smile. "Don't be. It's not like...it's not like anyone died for nothing."

_This is ridiculous. You're being ridiculous._

_You want to cut us out of your life so you can go back to a warzone, because it's where you're comfortable?_

_Just one more footsoldier._

Of all the times to be proven right, why when he had most wanted to be wrong? 

It cut through him like hot iron. Everything he'd said to Jyn about her irrational choosing of the rebellion above all else, the long period of anger that had followed. Why had they fought? Why had he wasted the little time they had on nursing a grudge? They should've parted everyday on good terms. Everyday death was a possibility. 

Luke slung an arm around his shoulder, taking care that he didn't break anything. "Listen, I'll come with you to the memorial wall when things get quiet around here. People pray there, so you can...pray for them, I guess."

Bodhi wasn't sure he produced a sound when he spoke next. "Thanks."

Luke gave him a reassuring nod before hurrying off when someone called. It felt like he moved in water. Everything around him lost its clarity, became blurred images and incoherent speech. Memorial wall. Memorial wall? Just like when they'd visited the memorial wall for the fallen on Hoth, him and Cassian and Jyn, to look at the standard face-shots taken of Chirrut and Baze when they'd officially enlisted, and one of Rostok petting a strange animal that had snuck into his quarters at Massasi base.

Bodhi Rook was all that remained of Rogue One.


End file.
